


Reruns

by SolarMorrigan



Series: Duck Hugs [3]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 12:59:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17683934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: The afternoon was, for once, a peaceful one. No adventures, no international crises, no villains or mad inventions – just Fenton and Launchpad, relaxing on the improbably comfortable couch in Launchpad’s apartment (or Mr. McDuck’s garage; Fenton wasn’t entirely sure what to call it, but he was growing increasingly fond of it, regardless).





	Reruns

The afternoon was, for once, a peaceful one. No adventures, no international crises, no villains or mad inventions – just Fenton and Launchpad, relaxing on the improbably comfortable couch in Launchpad’s apartment (or Mr. McDuck’s garage; Fenton wasn’t entirely sure what to call it, but he was growing increasingly fond of it, regardless).

There was little space between them, with Launchpad on one end of the couch and Fenton stretched out over the remaining cushions, leaning back into Launchpad’s side in a casual sort of occupation of space that Fenton still reveled in. It was an afternoon for anything or nothing, and they enjoyed the laidback freedom in comfortable quiet; Launchpad was occupied by a pile of comics that had built up over the last few busy weeks and Fenton was skimming a back issue of a science journal he’d borrowed from Gyro, while pretending that his eyelids weren’t drooping ever lower as the afternoon wore on.

Gizmoduck duties, though part of his job, were wearing to keep up with when Gyro seemed to have no problem finding many, many things for him to do around the lab, but Fenton wouldn’t give either aspect of his life up for anything; finally he felt useful, his mind occupied and his ideas acknowledged (Mr. McDuck always listened to Fenton’s feedback when it came to keeping the city secure, saying he needed the opinion of the person with their boots on the ground—so to speak—but Fenton was also fairly certain Gyro was coming around to paying his ideas at least some mind). Still, coffee only took Fenton so far, and the ease of the afternoon was pulling him down, and down–

“Oh, it’s two o’ clock!”

Fenton jerked from his doze, tensing and glancing around the room, halfway to alarm before he realized it was Launchpad’s voice that had startled him.

“Two o’ clock?” Fenton asked, shaking his head in an attempt to dislodge the fuzz from his brain.

“Yep!” Launchpad confirmed cheerfully. “Mind if I turn on the TV?”

“Oh, uh – no, go for it,” Fenton resettled himself against Launchpad’s side and attempted to find the last paragraph he remembered reading, only to be pulled from his concentration by the sound of a distantly familiar theme song.

Looking over, Fenton squinted at the TV; the title sequence was so familiar, but why–? “Wait,” the realization hit when a purple-caped figure came galivanting into view, “is this… _Darkwing Duck?”_

“Yeah! Only the greatest show of all time,” Launchpad enthused.

“Oh man, I haven’t seen this in a really long time,” Fenton turned a little more to see the screen better, magazine all but forgotten in his lap.

“I watched when it was airing the first time around,” Launchpad said. “I’ve got a lot of it on video now, but there’s something about catching it on TV that just feels right.”

“Yeah…” Fenton agreed absently, his memory of the show returning in patches as he watched the scene unfold. “I watched it as a kid, too. My dad and I would watch it together.”

Launchpad glanced down at Fenton, his smile fading back a little. “Oh – did you want me to…?” His hand twitched towards the remote, but Fenton shook his head.

“No, it’s – it’s a good memory. Leave it on,” Fenton couldn’t blame Launchpad for his uncertainty – he didn’t speak much about his father, if only for how few memories Fenton retained of him before his death, but it had never been a subject he’d meant to make taboo. “I liked this show.”

Grinning again, Launchpad left the remote where it was and instead wrapped his arm around Fenton’s shoulders when Fenton shifted to curl into his side and give the show fuller attention. Fenton didn’t bother to quell the smile that formed on his own beak as the faded, sweet nostalgia of the _Darkwing Duck_ he remembered from watching with his father entwined with the warm new experience of watching with Launchpad, and when the first villainous confrontation began to play out onscreen, Fenton couldn’t help but murmur along with the winged crusader. “ _I am the terror that flaps in the night…”_

“I am the winged scourge that pecks at your nightmares,” came Launchpad’s unexpected reply.

Glancing over with a little laugh, Fenton searched his memory of the show. “I am… the little roller-skate at the base of villainy’s staircase?”

“I am the metal key on the sardine can of justice!”

“I am the chill that runs up your spine!”

“I am the wrong number that wakes you at 3 AM!”

“I am the spider who nips at your neck!”

“I am the icky bug that crawls up your trouser leg!”

“I am – I– I am,” Fenton finally lost the fight to the laughter he’d been holding back, unable to finish his sentence and instead giggling so hard that he lost his balance and tumbled across Launchpad’s lap.

Above him, Launchpad joined in Fenton’s mirth, chuckling along even as he put a hand on Fenton’s shoulder to keep him from rolling off the couch entirely.

When his laughter began to fade and Fenton caught his breath back, he beamed up at Launchpad from his spot sprawled across his legs. “I am… really happy to be here,” he said, less boisterously than he had exclaimed any of Darkwing Duck’s catchphrases, but with even more sincerity.

“Yeah?” Launchpad asked, expression brimming with the unchecked sort of joy that Fenton loved to see in him.

“Yeah,” Fenton agreed, leaning up to press a kiss to the side of Launchpad’s bill.

“Good,” Launchpad said, running his fingers up through the feathers on the back of Fenton’s head, “because I’m really happy, too.”

There was no better response to that, Fenton decided, than to lean into the kiss that Launchpad pulled him up for, and to break it only when they were both smiling too hard to continue.

**Author's Note:**

> Hot take: Fenton's dad isn't bad or absent, he's just dead (actually, I'll probably write about him however suits my needs until we find out where he is in canon)
> 
> Also posted on [Tumblr](http://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/post/182611274188/reruns-ducktales-2017-established-fenpad)


End file.
